


Sunlight and Lotus Flowers

by Yass_Rani



Category: Padmaavat (2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Other, also mentions of other characters, and relationships, mehru and padmaavati, slowburn, this was supposed to be a oneshot but i cant stop writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yass_Rani/pseuds/Yass_Rani
Summary: Padmaavati and Mehrunnisa are two women who are done with the world telling them how to live. Nagmati is also learning how to do that, it's a process - but anyway, the two queens decide to live for themselves, as they did before their relationships with their husbands left a lot to be desired.Originally should've been a one shot but I couldn't stop writing and this might turn into a miniseries.
Relationships: Alauddin Khilji/Mehrunissa (Padmaavat 2018), Mehrunissa/Padmavati (Padmaavat 2018), Padmavati/Ratan Singh (Padmaavat 2018)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Sunlight and Lotus Flowers

Despite her mind screaming at her to rush behind her husband and drag him back, Padmaavati shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind as she followed Mehrunnisa towards the tunnel. Her instincts were telling her to trust the Empress and even though her heart went out to the man she married, Padmaavati knew she was doing the best thing for the moment.

The lamps in the dungeon flickered and cast shadows over their steps, the sound muffled to the outside but echoing inside, as Mehrunnisa led the queen to a trapdoor and opened it, looking over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being seen. She’d decided to help Padmaavati save her life and her husband’s – who, on second thought, was better off in the cell than going against Khilji – But the moment she saw the queen stepping into the tunnel, turning to Mehrunnisa, a quiet expression of gratitude on her face, the Empress hesitated.

Her heart told her one thing, and her mind the other - she didn’t know whose advice to heed.

Mehrunnisa’s mind was calm, rational. She was to bid Padmaavati a good journey, close the trapdoor, return back and deal with whatever tantrum the Sultan was sure to throw when he realized. Her heart, however, was beating a hopeful thrum. She could follow Padmaavati, leave everything behind and trust the queen and her own instincts to get her through the rest of life, which might just be better than trying to make it work with her husband over and over again.

“Mallika, I- I know your duty rests with your husband, but maybe you-,” Padmaavati said, haltingly, not very sure of how the Empress would react to what she’d say, before taking a deep breath and blurting it out.

“Come with me, please.”

At that moment, Mehrunnisa’s mind and heart seemed to converge into a jumbling mess of incoherent thoughts. For what seemed like an eternity, she stood right there, fingers tight around the door handle and eyes wide as she tried to get her thoughts back. She could either leave into the unknown, or stay back and go to Alauddin. However, the thought of the emperor finding her if she ran away made her breath stutter, she would surely not live – then again, she wouldn’t have a life if she stayed back either. Her heart began whispering hope, stories of new beginnings, reminded her of all those books she read as a child, maybe this was how she’d find her happily ever after, maybe this was her once upon a time story.

She focused back on the queen’s face from her haphazard thoughts and the look on her face was doing something. The hope, the sympathy glistening through her brown eyes beckoned Mehrunnisa, made her heart hammer against her chest and she swallowed thickly, tears welling up at the realization of what she truly wanted to do.

Mehrunnisa Khilji stepped into the tunnel, the terrified look in her eyes that shone with sophistication and intelligence even through all the turbulence, making Padmaavati reach for her hand and offer her a smile before reaching up to close the door and running towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

It seemed longer than it was, with adrenaline coursing through both the women and their jewellery clinking as they progressed towards the end, their hearts thumping and a small smile on Padmaavati’s face that didn’t go unnoticed by the Empress.

Or maybe, the ex-Empress – she thinks. The end of the tunnel greeted her with freedom, the soft sunlight and a sweet breeze she realized that she hadn’t felt since she was a carefree little child, sprinting across the palace gardens and getting her gowns dirty with mud her mother would chuckle at, before raising her eyebrows as the child giggled shamelessly. She walked out the tunnel, to live her own life, maybe do some right work to compensate for her husband’s wrongs because however much she didn’t approve of his action, she was still the lovestruck teenager that was head over heels for the Emperor.

Mehrunnisa chose to leave her husband when he would inevitably know she had a hand in the escape. The Empress prayed for a good life for him, she finished her duty as a wife and now, she left to do what she wanted, as Mehrunnisa. Not the Mallika-e-Jahaan, not Khilji’s wife but herself.

Turning around to look at the huge fort one more time, Mehrunnisa smiled. The lump in her throat melted away as she took a deep breath and _smiled_ , bigger than she’d done in a decade, eyes shining with the exhilaration of freedom and free will.

Padmaavati decided she had never seen a more beautiful sight than that.

Until the woman turned to her, never a falter in her smile, as she beamed at the queen with a huff of laughter that surprised her more than it did Padmaavati. The queen denied her last thought. _This_ was the most beautiful sight she’d seen and Padmaavati’s heart felt impossibly light when she returned Mehrunnisa’s smile with a just as big one – more than she’d smiled in years as well.

The former Empress laughed, eyes wide in surprise and adrenaline coursing through her, squeezing her hands together in an old habit, her reaction to anything that made her happy, only to realise she was still holding Padmaavati’s hand, which she was currently cradling in both hands. Letting out an embarrassed huff, she pulled her hands away, her face going red as a rose as she looked away and smiled sheepishly. Padmaavati followed her movements, only calling out to the woman to signal to the palanquin waiting for them.

“Mallika, we need to get to the end of Khilji’s kingdom before they realize,” she said, watching as Mehrunnisa turned to her and tilted her head ever so slightly, a small smile on her lips.

“Mehrunnisa is fine, my queen,” she whispered, even bowing slightly to add to the effect, making Padmaavati widen her eyes in a chuckle.

“Padmaavati is fine, then, Mehrunnisa,” the queen answered, a smile playing on her lips as they walked to the palanquin, thanking the attendants and climbing in. They waited until the women settled in, not daring to question the queen as to why she brought the enemy’s wife with her, before lifting the dome at Padmaavati’s gesture. It was a snug fit inside, the women leaned against opposite walls, legs folded at the knees and hands fidgeting as they made small talk through the ride, taking breaks every now and then to snack on something and return to conversations that flowed easily as more time passed between them.

\---

The gates of Chittor seemed gorgeous to her with all their huge domes, elegant carvings and strong varnish, a stark contrast to the similarly huge gates she was used to back in Delhi, dark, heavy and utterly unwelcoming. Mehrunnisa had managed pretty well through the journey with Padmaavati, but her hesitance returned as soon as she caught a glimpse of the towering fort of Chittor.

The gates themselves were beautiful, welcoming, yet the woman who stood at the entrance as they opened seemed to want nothing more than to see the queens’ palanquin burn to the ground. Eyes cold as steel, she seemed to be glaring daggers at Padmaavati as she stepped down from the carriage and put her hands together in a simple greeting. If Mehrunnisa had thought Padmaavati radiated royalty, it was no match for the cold, hard stoicism of the older queen of Chittor. Nagmati held herself with all the grace of a proud queen and yet had a gaze that could turn the strongest of people to ashes in a heartbeat.

Padmaavati seemed used to the elder queen’s attitude, however, she sensed her companion’s apprehension and stepped closer to her, offering her a smile and a nod to somewhat alleviate her stress. They’d both been through a lot, but Padmaavati could not imagine how it would feel running away from what she considered home right into the enemy territory _and_ endeavour to stay with the royal family there – her heart went out to Mehrunnisa, she knew the poor woman had a lot on her mind and she couldn’t let Nagmati prod at her, so she decided to take everything onto herself.

“ _Ranisa,_ ” she stepped towards the entrance, greeting Nagmati, receiving only a curt nod in return as she turned towards Mehrunnisa, eyebrows slightly raised at the unfamiliar woman. Mehrunnisa imitated Padmaavati, pulling her shawl over her head in and offering a _salaam_ in respect – which further surprised Nagmati as her features morphed into realization, and then horror as she turned to Padmaavati.

“Padmaavati, what is the meaning of this,” she all but huffed, “just because Khilji took my husband does not mean you go there, and it most certainly does not mean you would _bring his wife back_.”

The young queen held back an amused chuckle at her reaction – of course, she thought this was a hostile move. “No, _Ranisa_ , the empress fled of her own volition. She is with us as a guest for now,” Padmaavati replied, trying to put as much distance between the other two women as she could.

Before the queen could say anything else, her husband stepped down from his horse and walked over to the women, immediately prompting Nagmati to plaster a smile on her face despite the obvious storm brewing in her eyes. With a respectful nod, she signalled the guards to open the gates entirely and let the royals pass through, all the while being doubtful of the new guest at Chittor.

\---

Ever since her husband brought Padmaavati home with the pearls of Singhal, she had been quiet, like the dutiful wife she was raised to be. He’d praised the young woman so much, that comparing her to those pearls would have been a mistake in and of itself.

Through it all, she stayed quiet. Padmaavati quickly grew to be everyone’s favourite with her charming smile and polite regality while they drifted away from the elder queen. She knew she was colder than her, but Nagmati knew she had to be like that. She knew she had to be callous in order to be a good queen – but apparently that was the wrong idea, since the moment Padmaavati arrived, she seemed to flip Nagmati’s world upside down with just a smile to the ladies around her and a polite bow to the men, in contrast to the queen’s demanding presence and proud demeanour.

She stayed quiet as Padmaavati stole the palace’s heart and grew to be the city’s favourite. She stayed quiet as her husband spent more and more time with his younger wife. She stayed quiet as Padmaavati started joining Rawal at court, even as she decided to banish the most respected Brahmin from Chittor.

Then came Alauddin. Padmaavati’s brazenness put her husband’s life in danger – and Nagmati knew the king would fight to the death and simply follow rules all his life even when Khilji threatened to endanger everything they held dear. His righteous anger caused the Sultan to realize the man’s strict morals and obviously, he’d figured out a way to get _Rawal Ratan Singh_ , Chittor’s wonderful ruler, kidnapped right under all the kingdom’s noses.

Alauddin Khilji had taken the one thing Nagmati held dear to her heart and she was _broken_. The queen that had not so much as offered a smile or a hint of emotion beyond her regal mask was brought to tears in front of the women of Chittor as she all but mourned her husband – going so far as to carelessly dismiss the concerned Padmaavati that rushed to see her in the courtyard, snapping at her and blaming what happened on her while pointing a finger, quite literally, at her beauty. The logical part of her knew she was displacing her anger, but her heart wrenched in her chest every time she saw Padmaavati serving as a reminder of what she’d lost. She knew Padmaavati’s arguments were right, that she had no hand in the way Alauddin had perceived her – but Nagmati’s anguish at losing her husband, the doubt and fear she’d harboured for months shot out, calling for a fitting sentence for Padmaavati. Nagmati had finally decided to _not_ stay quiet, and she’d commanded that the young queen accept Khilji’s offer just to save the king. Despite the shocked gasps and protests of the crowd, – they’d rather all jump into the fire than let their ‘ _Choti ranisa’_ step into the Khilji territory – a part of her was strangely pleased to see Padmaavati simply accepting and convincing the other ladies enough to prepare for her journey. She was finally pleased to know that her husband would be back and she was determined to not stay quiet until she had her life back.

However, the moment Padmaavati came back, with her husband, thankfully, Nagmati realized with a jolt that there was no way she would get her life back. All the noblewomen and even the maids of Chittor had put Padmaavati up on a pedestal and it seemed like Nagmati would be forgotten, that she’d have to stay quiet all her life and put up with everything happening around her with all the calmness expected of a queen. She knew it when the attendants waiting on her rushed out at the sound of the caravan arriving, barely heeding her annoyed words. She knew it when she saw Padmaavati emerge from the palanquin, with another woman she’d never seen.

Nagmati knew she was not Rajputian in one glance, her dark robes and the shawl on her head gave away the fact that she was from Delhi. Although her honey coloured eyes glittered with fear and doubt, the way she held herself made it obvious that she was a royal. The expensive jewellery on her only served to intensify the regality that shone on her pale face, her graceful _salaam_ more indicative of her status. As her eyes landed on the huge ring on the woman’s finger, Nagmati realised with a jolt – this was Mehrunnisa.

Mehrunnisa Khilji, Alauddin’s wife.

_What had Padmaavati done?_

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please do leave kudos and/or comments they mean so much to me and I'm so curious to know what you think.


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